Trust in the Unknown
by darkpartofmydestiny
Summary: A serial killer targeting pregnant women. A call with information from a deceased victim. The BAU must work with Melinda Gordon in order to solve the case. They also come face to face with the ghosts of their own pasts. Warning for descriptions of violence against pregnant women, torture, language. Ghost Whisperer characters included. Being rewritten.
1. Chapter One

_The dead cannot cry out for justice. It is the duty of the living to do so. - Lois McMaster Bujold_

_The concrete ground was cold, damp from the water dripping from the ceiling. A basement; a dungeon. Her screams echoed round the stone walls. The sound of metal rattling..the chains that bound her to the ceiling, her arms tied above her head. _

"_Stop! Please!" Something sharp hit her thigh, burning her. "Why are you doing this to me?! Just kill me! PLEASE! KILL ME!" Her voice broke, and she gave into the tears building up in her throat. "Let me go.." Her voice was weak, giving into the stress of her ordeal._

_A shadowy figure stood in front of her. Tall and broad, her abductor was clearly a man. _

"_Why are you doing this to me, you sick son of a bitch? Who are you?!" She was sobbing now, the pain on her thigh spreading down her legs and up her spine like a fire, paralyzing her. Her body hang limply, the restraints burning against her wrist._

"_I, my dear, am your saviour. Your saviour from sin." He walked around her, hands by his side but his head moving as he looked her up and down._

"_Sin? What sin?! I haven't DONE anything." Despite the intense pain that stunned her body, she struggled again, her restraints cutting into her wrists. Blood began to trickle down her arms. She cried out in agony._

"_Oh, darling, I think we both know that isn't true.." His voice was tight, and for the first time she noticed that he was talking in an English accent._

"_Please, please, I'm pregnant. Can't you see? The baby.. Let me go. The baby..please." Desperation to preserve the life inside her overwhelmed her._

"_Why let another bastard into the world, hmm? No, no I think it's time to end this." He lunged forward, a knife she hadn't seen before plunging into her stomach._

"_Goodnight, Alison." The pain was unbelievable, blinding her. Blood rose in her throat, and she felt the knife enter her abdomen again, as if he was ensuring the baby would perish, even if the mother somehow survived._

_But she had no chance. No chance at all._

Melinda Gordon woke up with a start, sweat covering her body. Breathing shakily, she reached over to her bedside table to get the glass of water that sat there. Her eyes fell on a pair of feet at the side of the bed, and she screamed.

"Please..please help me." Slowly, Melinda pulled her eyes up the body. The ghost was blonde, covered in blood and in her underwear. Though technically not the worst condition she had ever seen a ghost in, it broke her heart. She knew that the nightmare she had just experienced wasn't a nightmare at all – she had been shown the last moments of this woman.

"A-Alison?" She nodded. "What's your last name?"

"Parker."

"Where are you from, Alison?" By now, she heard Jim stirring next to her, mumbling "Who's Alison?"

"Jim, Jim, call 911. I think I have the ghost of a murdered girl."

"You sure? What's she told you?" He sat up, stretching and rubbing the tiredness away from his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Melinda, holding her close. She was trembling violently, her face grey with fear. "When did it happen?"

"I don't know, I hardly know a thing. She showed me, she showed me her death." Melinda was crying freely now. "We have to help her, stop this happening to anyone else."

"Wait, wait. We need more. Ask her some questions. Is she still there?"

"Yes, she's still here."

"You'll need her age, location, job, if she knows where she was taken from. And when this happened. This could have been years ago. Alison," he spoke into the empty room "Melinda and I want to help you. OK?"

Alison nodded, smiling for the first time. Melinda could see she was very beautiful, with long blonde hair and delicate features. Her stomach had terrible wounds, her face was dirty and her slim body was covered in bruises and burns, her wrists smeared with blood. Alison looked to be a similar age to Melinda, and Melinda knew she had to do whatever she could to help her cross over.

"Is that your husband, Melinda?" Alison's voice was soft, but full of sadness.

"Yes, this is Jim. He's gonna do everything he can to help you, just like me."

"But he can't see me?" Alison moved to the foot of the bed, waving a hand in front of Jim's face. Melinda had to stop herself smiling - even though this situation was awful, Alison seemed to be a naturally upbeat person. That would help - angry ghosts were difficult to get through to.

"No, no, just me. You came to the right place though. I'm guessing there's no light you can see?" Some ghosts could see the light, but didn't understand what it was. Melinda prayed that, somehow, this girl was ready. Her prayers weren't answered.

"No, nothing. Just darkness."

"Can you remember where you're from?" Her voice was gentle. Ghosts were often confused just after their deaths, but Alison seemed coherent and accepting of her situation than others she had seen who had died violent deaths.

"I'm from Poughkeepsie."

"Well, you're still in New York State. You're in Grandview, not too far from the city."

"I need to get home, I need to see my mom, tell her that I'm safe now.."

"You haven't seen your mom yet?" Ghosts were normally attracted to loved ones, but somehow this ghost had ended up hours away, just happening upon Melinda. "Where did you go after you were ki- after it happened?"

"Someone told me to come here. They said you could help me. I woke up - well, whatever it was - next to my body. I stayed there for a really long time, not sure where I could go. I wandered around a bit, but never went too far. I wanted to make sure my mom knew. I didn't want to be one of those girls who just went missing. After they found me, and my body was taken away, I don't know where I was. It was dark, and I was alone. I stayed there for what seemed like eternity – I couldn't move. Then, one day, some weird lights appeared and they told me how I could move, leave the dark, and find the light."

"And they told you to come to me?" Melinda was confused how a ghost could find her at random, but it wasn't the first time it had happened. "They knew me? What did they look like?"

"A small, hovering light. Lots of them. They were shining, like light reflecting on metal. They didn't even talk..I just heard them in my mind."

"Well, they told you the right thing. I will do everything I can to help you cross over."

"I just want to see the bastard that did this to me punished. He killed my baby." Her hands hovered over her stomach, and she began to cry. So, that was the question of what it would take for her to move on answered.

"I saw, you showed me everything. I am so sorry this happened to you. So sorry. I will do everything I can, and now that you're with me, you can help too." Melinda swallowed, not sure how to ask the next question. "How far along were you?"

"Seven months. Where's my baby, Melinda?" Her voice was small, emotion blocking her throat.

"There's a special group of people that take care of babies who pass away. It's possible they have the baby, but I just don't know." Alison was sobbing now, but no tears were coming. Nothing real was inside her now, just her energy. "The baby's safe now, and is waiting for you. I promise."

"So you'll help me?" Alison asked pleadingly. "You'll help me to see my baby again?"

"Yes. Yes, I will. I'll need you to stay with me though, I'm going to go to the police and tell them."

"Will they believe you? I mean - you're talking to a.."

"Ghost, I know. It might take a while but I'll make sure they listen. We're going to get justice, Alison."

_BAU Quantico, 10am_

"Morning everyone. Ready for today's briefing?" JJ greeted them all, ignoring the tired groans. They'd been working all week on a tough spree killer case and had only been back a day. "That's the spirit!"

"What we got JJ?" Morgan asked, leaning back in his chair.

"We just had a call from the chief of police in Poughkeepsie. They have a string of missing women; bodies turn up later, tortured, obviously strung up by their arms with bleeding from the wrists, all of them stabbed to death with seemingly frenzied wounds. Dumped in public places, but wrapped in garbage bags." JJ dropped the case file on the table. Prentiss reached out and opened the files, leafing through the photos of the bodies.

"Any evidence of sexual assault?" Prentiss asked, examining a photo of one dump site carefully.

"No, no sign. That's the other thing – these women were pregnant. Alison Parker, the first victim, seven months. Lisa Smith, six months. Betty Williams, five months."

"So they were all pregnant enough to see, but not far along enough for the baby to survive safely outside the womb without specialist medical care?" Prentiss asked. Murder cases were hard enough, but the thought of deliberately murdering a pregnant woman and letting an innocent baby die disgusted even the most hardened of agents.

"So that rules out women who take the babies for themselves. Were the bodies of the babies still inside the women?" Hotch asked.

"Yes. The women had also been stabbed several times in the abdomen. It was clear this UnSub had aggression directed not only to the mother but also specifically to the unborn child." JJ pointed to the wounds of one woman on a photo she had kept back from the file.

"Could it be possible he was the father of these babies?" Prentiss asked, still focused on the files.

"Unlikely, the sheer aggression towards the pregnancy indicates that he is impotent." Reid piped up, chewing on a pen.

"Another thing." JJ added. Her voice was hesitant. "The Poughkeepsie police investigating the case have received a call from a woman named Melinda Gordon, claiming to have information on the murder of Alison Parker. Her information was incredibly accurate, right down to the clothes that Alison Parker was wearing when her body was found and the position of the stab wounds. She had no information on the other victims, only on Alison. She claims not to have actually witnessed the murder, but to have seen something," JJ coughed, nervous of the team's reaction, "supernatural."

Rossi scoffed; he'd seen his fair share of bogus mediums, and was frankly sick of them getting in the way and distracting attention from the case at hand.

"Have her be there when we arrive, we'll need to talk to her." Hotch requested, his voice low.

"Think she could have something to do with the murders?" Reid was putting on his jacket ready to go.

"Unlikely, she lives in New York State like the victims, but four or five hours away from Poughkeepsie. Check her alibi. The UnSub is almost certainly male, check her husband too."

Hotch stood up, gathering his things from the table.

"Wheels up in thirty."

"Is the woman who called waiting for us?"

"Yes, sir, interview room 3. Observation room is the door on the left."

"Thank you. Does she have anyone with her?"

"Her husband, one Jim Clancy. By the way, she's a Ms. Got pretty annoyed when we called her Miss or Mrs." Hotch nodded, ignoring the humour in the man's voice.

"Got it. How does she seem?" He knew exactly what to expect; fruitcake old lady, being paid by the family, or just obsessed with death.

"Normal. Late 20s, early 30s maybe, haven't seen her birth date yet. Attractive, well presented, runs an antique shop. Husband's a paramedic. Like I said, normal." Hotch disguised his surprised, offering a nod and a hand to the officer.

"Thanks, officer. We'll take it from here." The officer shook his hand and showed him into the room. Melinda Gordon sat at the table, her hands clasped together nervously. Hotch eyed her carefully; her appearance caught him totally off guard – she didn't fit the profile of a medium at all, and it made him all the more certain this was a hoax.

"Ms Gordon? I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner, I'm with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit." He reached out to shake her hand, and she took it with a smile.

"Agent Hotchner, thank you for talking with me." Hotch nodded, his face solemn, and switched the tape recorder on.

"We have a few questions to ask you about what you know about the death of Alison Parker, and how you may have come to know that information. I trust you don't mind being recorded?"

"Sure. Of course."

"How did you know Alison Parker?"

"I didn't." Melinda had explained a certain amount of the story to the police, both on the phone and when she'd first arrived at the hospital. "I've never met her."

"Then how did you know.." Hotch flipped through the file "That she was seven months pregnant, as well as the underwear she was wearing when her body was discovered?"

Melinda looked down. "I told the officers, Agent Hotchner."

"And I would like you to tell me. At this stage you are at risk of being arrested as a suspect. You also knew the position of the stab wounds on the victim's torso, as well as the method of death. I'd say you need to start being honest with me as soon as possible."

"She told me." Melinda sighed, shifting slightly in her chair. Her eyes drifted behind Hotch, and he turned to see what you were looking at.

"But you've never met her, had any form of contact with her?" Hotch sighed, losing patience with yet another liar. He suddenly noticed she was fixated on a spot behind his head. "Sorry, what are you looking at?" Annoyed with her aloofness, he was determined to get the truth out of this woman. "If you wouldn't mind focusing on the questions, Ms Gordon." Melinda snapped her eyes back to his unapologetically.

"Agent Hotchner, I can explain how I know all the information, but I need an open mind."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead." _This should be good,_ he thought. _You've seen one, you've seen them all_.

Rossi, Reid and Prentiss were watching the interview through the two way mirror, Reid occasionally making notes.

"Nutjob warning.." Rossi muttered under his breath.

"After we die, Agent Hotchner, our spirits are separated from our bodies. Some stay behind."

"Bingo." Prentiss mumbled.

"And if they have no unsolved business, they pass into the light. But when they die, or are killed, in violent, tragic circumstances like Alison was, sometimes the light doesn't appear straight away. That's what happened to Alison, and she's come to me for help. I just want to help with the investigation, to make sure this man is brought to justice so Alison can go into the light."

"Ms Gordon, I cannot use evidence that is not from a proven source. Any "evidence" you give us would be inadmissible in court. The FBI does not use mediums, psychics.."

"I'm not a medium. I can see them all the time, whether I want to or not. I don't make any money from what I do. I've helped hundreds of families, free of charge and on my own time. I don't do this for any other reason than to help people in need. I have dozens of names that will be happy to vouch for me."

"Ms Gordon, what you believe you can see and do is your own business, but we need to know how you got this information."

"I've told you how I got the information, and that's all I can do."

"Ms Gordon, until you are prepared to be honest about how you know what you know, this interview is over." Hotch switched the tape off and stood up, turning to walk out. "You're lucky I don't arrest you right now." Melinda got desperate, and did something she had hoped to avoid.

"Haley's here." Hotch stopped dead in his tracks. Clenching his fists by his side, he turned slowly towards her.

"What?" His steely composure never left him, but underneath that suit, his blood was boiling.

"Haley. She told me to tell you. She's been talking to me the whole time you've been in here. She's with you quite often." She knew she was taking a big risk in talking to him like this, but frankly it was better than getting arrested.

"How do you know about Haley?" His voice was low, dangerously low.

"I told you. She's here." She took a deep breath. "She's always with you, Jack or Jess."

"You're lying!" Hotch was shouting now, snarling the words.

"I'm not! She's standing behind your right shoulder. She's mid thirties, brown hair – looks like a wig maybe? She wants me to tell you that she's proud of you, that you're doing a great job with Jack and that.."

"STOP!" Hotch leant forward on the table, close to her face. His features were twisted in anger. "STOP! You know NOTHING! You've obviously just found out information from the Bureau somehow, and you're manipulating it to cover your own tracks, maybe the tracks of someone close to you! Don't you dare bring up personal information for your own sick ends!"

"I'm not! She was shot in the back of the head, by a suspect the FBI was dealing with. He had a grudge against you, and they went into witness protection. He found them. She saw you hold her body, and she wishes things had turned out differently. She saw the light, but chose not to go in it to stick around to make sure you and Jack were ok. She says you only believe what's right in front of you, that I don't have a chance of making you see something that's so unlikely. But it's true, Agent Hotchner. It's true and if you don't at least give me a chance then more women could be at risk."

"This is over." Hotch walked out and slammed the door. Melinda sunk down in her chair, unsure if she could leave.

"You ok Hotch?"

"No, no I'm not ok! You go and talk to her, work out what the hell she's up to. I'm sorry, I need to take a moment." Rossi nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"Take as much time as you need, Hotch. Don't worry, I'll figure her game out." He watched Hotch exit the observation room. "You two, watch and see if she exhibits any body language that indicates she's lying or experiencing delusions."

"Yes, sir." Reid answered. He wouldn't say so, but he was fascinated by the idea of people who believed they could see ghosts, and sometimes wondered if there wasn't some grain of truth in it, despite all the research he'd done into the matter.

The door opened again, and Rossi eyed her up and down. She was talking to someone, or herself, intently.

"Agent Rossi. You mind telling me what the hell you think you're doing?" Rossi stormed into the room, standing dead in front of her.

"I'm not "doing" anything! I'm telling the truth. I need to help Alison, she needs to find the light and she can't do that until this maniac killing pregnant women has been brought to justice! And the fact that I am willing to sit here and be classed as crazy surely proves that I have a genuine reason to be here? Telling FBI agents I can see ghosts isn't exactly my idea of fun."

"Do you have any idea how many people like you we see in a year?" He said with unconcealed scorn, one eyebrow raised.

"There are frauds out there, Agent Rossi, but I want no payment, I'm not working for anyone, I am simply here to help you."

"Tell me something." Rossi took the seat Hotch had vacated, placing his elbows on the table and staring straight at her. Melinda didn't flinch, never losing eye contact with him.

"What?"

"Tell me something, something that there'd be no way you could know without talking to a dead guy." Melinda sighed.

"Are you sure, Agent Rossi?" Melinda sat straight. "You may not like what they have to say."

"Try me." His eyebrow was raised, his posture was challenging. Melinda sighed.

"You have several men attached to you, Agent Rossi. They weren't in the room before, there was only Haley, and Alison. They followed you in from outside. They're angry. There are five in total, but they say there are more at your home." Despite himself, Rossi couldn't help but feel fear grip him. Staying cool on the surface, he scoffed.

"Lady, I'm an FBI agent. I've helped convict hundreds of angry men." Rossi was losing his patience now. "If a few are still hanging around me, I'm not surprised."

"These men aren't criminals, Agent Rossi. These are victims."

"What?" Caught off guard, Rossi sat back in his seat, eyeing his surroundings suspiciously.

"They never passed over to the light. They're angry with the money you've made off their backs. They feel like you forgot about them. Like you gave too much power to the murderers, and not enough respect to them."

"Again, easy. I'm a famous author specializing in interviewing serial killers, Ms Gordon. Not too hard to make something like that up."

"Ask me something. Something I couldn't possibly know unless I talked to these victims."

"Give me a name." Melinda nodded, and stopped to listen. Rossi looked around him. Sure, he thought this was a big pile of crap, but she'd gotten him spooked a little.

"Guys, guys, not all at once. Ok, there's a man here who has been shot through the head. His name is Mike Rose. He and his son were killed while hiking, by a man named Michael Joyce. His son was kept alive for days, and was strangled. He couldn't protect him. Your profile helped the man to be caught."

"I remember."

"He says you promised his wife you'd check up on her. You never called once."

Rossi blushed. "There are just so many." He replied softly.

"His wife was pregnant, she found out after the case had been closed. She had another son, and she named the baby David, after you."

"I-I didn't know that."

"Agent Rossi, I'm not here to discuss your past. I'm here to help Alison. She's still here with me. This is your chance to interview her. You may doubt me, but this is an opportunity to find things that could be invaluable. I want to prevent this happening to any more women."

"You could have known the Rose family. That doesn't prove anything."

"Ok. Well, when you were observing the interview before in the other room, you called me a "nutjob" and a lady with black hair replied "bingo"." She paused, listening. "Last night, you ordered pizza because you were too exhausted to cook. You threw half away because they put pineapple on by mistake and you hate fruit on pizza. You drank two glasses of scotch." She paused again. "You watched a documentary about pandas on the Discovery channel and fell asleep on the couch." Rossi's look of distain turned to one of astonishment.

"These..these guys are with me all the time?"

"Yes. They're angry, but they aren't dangerous. I'd say they're more upset, really. Even though they aren't pleased with what you did with their stories, they respect you for solving their cases and giving their families peace. But because of the violent way in which they died, they don't find it easy to forgive even little things."

"But I solved their cases.."

"Yes, and they thank you for that. I think you just need to take care to remember that the people you deal with, Agent Rossi, are not just names or photographs of dead bodies. I know there was a case that you were trying to solve for a long time, and you did. That eased their anger a bit – to know that you were dedicated. That something could move you."

"Why won't they leave?"

"I think they're so used to being angry that they don't know they can. Maybe now you realize, you can apologize. That will bring them peace."

The door opened again, and Reid entered the room. He avoided eye contact with Melinda, worried that he had someone attached to him, and went over to Rossi.

"Rossi, you need to stop. Another body's just been found." Reid whispered.

"Ok, Ms Gordon. Please don't go anywhere, we'll be back to talk to you later."

"You need me, Agent Rossi. Wherever the body was found, I can guarantee the ghost will be for the next few hours. They stay with their bodies until they're discovered. That's what Alison did."

"Until you're ruled out as a suspect, you aren't going anywhere. And you're certainly not coming to any crime scenes. Reid, let's go."

_**A/N**_**: First of all - I know this is a crossover. I'm just being selfish in not wanting my story to languish away in the crossover section not being read. But this is a story that focuses on Criminal Minds, and if I changed the names would not be a Ghost Whisperer story at all. The second chapter on are entirely from the perspective of the BAU. I could change the names I guess. But if this gets reported or I get a load of messages telling me to move it (please try not to be harsh, I'm ridiculously sensitive) I'll move it no problem. I just really want to give my stories a chance to get seen I guess..I've seen other stories around here using characters in a similar way and they seem to have been accepted. I've put a lot of love into this story and just want to give it a chance.**

**If you would like, please drop me a review to let me know your thoughts! More coming soon.**


	2. Chapter Two

_Of all ghosts, the ghosts of our old loves are the worst – _Arthur Conan Doyle

_8PM , Galleria Shopping Mall, Poughkeepsie_

"Pretty public place. You'd have to be quick to dump it here without the shop owners noticing. They must be in and out all the time, this is where they dispose of garbage, have smoke breaks.." Rossi scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Have Garcia check the employees of the stores for criminal records." Reid nodded, and pressed Garcia's number on speed dial. He walked away to make the call.

The team stood in a cordoned off yard at the back of a large shopping mall. Normally an employee parking lot, it was empty because of the time. The body must have been dumped after the stores closed, with enough time for everyone parked here in the day to leave. The vehicle must have been large enough to conceal the dumping but also to blend in. Not hard, vans and trucks would be in and out of here all the time. The body lay, still covered, in between two dumpsters. Crime scene photographers were taking photos from every angle, while Rossi, Reid and Hotch observed.

"How you feeling?" Rossi asked Hotch, both men staring straight ahead.

"I've been better." Hotch sighed. "Dave, what do you think about her?"

"I think she's the real deal."

"Oh come on, you can't believe that! The woman clearly has some insider knowledge on the FBI and is doing this for attention."

"I don't know, Aaron. She..she knew what I did last night."

"Maybe she's bugged your house."

"So she travelled all the way from Grandview, NY to Virginia to bug my house? What could she possibly get out of me, I live alone and don't discuss work on the phone. No, Aaron, something's up. Unless she's stalking the whole team.."

"Garcia's already background checking her, thoroughly. So interent history, cell phone history, credit card..we'll soon find out."

"She's not a suspect Aaron."

"Yes, Dave, right now she is. And right now, I want to find out how the hell she knew so many details about Haley. Jack might not be safe."

"Hotch, you know I'm as sceptical as anyone about these psychics and mediums. But she seems different. Not employed by a family, not telling us any vague details. She has precise information and I think we should take a listen."

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

"No, I don't think I am."

"Alright, have Prentiss talk to her, she's still at the station. But tell her not to tell her anything about the case or ask her any questions unrelated to anything she tells us. We can't give her anything. I'll chase Garcia on that background check." Rossi nodded, took out his cell phone and began to walk away, Hotch walking the opposite direction towards the parked SUVs. "Oh, and Dave?" Hotch called out, not looking back.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not going anywhere near that woman again." Rossi would have laughed if Hotch didn't sound so furious.

"Got it."

Hotch took out his phone just as it began to ring. "Hotchner."

"Hello my talk, dark and handsome bossman, I have some information for you on Miss I-See-Dead-People."

"Hit me." Normally he'd tell Garcia off for being so casual with him, but her quips were just what he needed to lighten his filthy mood.

"Ok, well, to be honest..she seems kinda..normal. Dull, even. Lives in a nice house, a fixer upper judging on the amount she and her husband spent on workmen and DIY stuff. Husband's a former firefighter now a paramedic, she owns a successful antique shop. Her employee, and apparent best friend according to photos on social media, died a couple years ago. She was crushed in her car by a commercial plane that hit the town. Remember that? All over the news, huuuge disaster, hundreds dead."

"Maybe that's what started her off? She lost a friend and wanted to believe she could still see her?"

"I thought that too, but one look at her internet history going back even before that and woah – she should start a one woman detective agency. Death records, birth records, adoption information, newspaper articles, addresses – she's taking this ghost hunting thing pretty seriously, my man. Lots of emails too, thank you emails mostly."

"Thank you emails? What for?"

"For – and I quote – "giving my son peace and helping him to the light." She may not make a job out of this Hotch, but she keeps herself pretty busy. Also, her shop has some really, really cute stuff and I am tempted to go there as soon as you all get back with the jet." Hotch sighed impatiently.

"Anything else?"

"She's been a foster parent, nice woman, keeps her financials in order, has a cat, buys a _lot _of clothes, a lot of coffee, woman after my own heart, and travels a lot judging by the amount she spends on gas at reeeally spaced out stations."

"Garcia, that's what we need. Do you have her car registration, maybe a GPS you can track, see where she's been?"

"Way ahead of you oh Supervisory one. She has never been to Poughkeepsie in her life. Checked both cars. And her husband's regular ambulance, just to make sure."

"And you checked up on him too?"

"Yes, Sir. Two fine upstanding citizens living the American Dream, almost sickening in their perfectness."

"What about the FBI files? Anyway she could have hacked into BAU files? She knows too much about our personal lives. Any record of contacting police with similar information before? We could have an attention seeker here."

"Not with the Great Wall of Garcia protecting us. Seriously, not even one single item on her computer history has anything to do with us or even the FBI in general, and no record of any reports made to the police, nor any complaints. And I have been in and out of her hardrive like Morgan on a Saturday ni- Ahem. Anyway, Sir, that is not the point. She really doesn't have the knowledge to breach FBI systems, let alone my superior technology, and that is what I would have said if I thought about who I was talking to before I made lewd comments about our own Derek Morgan to my boss, which I fully apologise for."

Hotch sighed, admitting to himself that it was highly unlikely that she had anything to do with the crime. "Thanks Garcia. One more thing."

"Yes Sir?"

"Switch to decaf."

"...Yes Sir." Her sheepish voice replied, as back in Quantico she threw her sixth cup of the day into the bin.

Prentiss took a deep breath, and opened the connecting door between the observation room and Interview Room 3.

"Ms Gordon." Melinda stood up and took the hand Prentiss offered her. "I'm Agent Emily Prentiss, I'm just going to ask you a few more questions. Before we start, would you like anything to drink?"

"Could I please just have a glass of water? It's pretty dry in here." Emily nodded and stuck her head round the main door.

"Can I get a glass of water in here please?" She closed the door and sat back down at the vacant chair facing Melinda. "So, Ms Gordon."

"Melinda, please." Prentiss was glad she hadn't gone for the same aggressive route as the guys. She knew this woman would be more responsive to open body language and gentle questioning. Yell at her and she'd close off straight away.

"Melinda. You understand why we're keeping you for questioning?"

"Yes, I do. But I have to say, I have nothing to do with these murders. Anytime these happened, I have an alibi that puts me hours away back in Grandview. I honestly just want to help you, and Alison."

"Alison?"

"Alison Parker. She came to me last night, and I called the police right away. Agent Prentiss, I need to know that you will listen to me until I have finished. Your colleagues only questioned my ability, rather than listening to anything relating to this crime. And now there's another body." A man knocked, bringing in her water and leaving again. "Thanks." Emily nodded.

"No problem, Melinda. Tell me what happened, I won't interrupt, and then I will ask you questions at the end. Sound ok?"

"Yes. Ok, so last night I was sleeping – in my bed, at home, Grandview." She added, as if trying to make her alibi even more solid than it already was. "And I had a nightmare – a vision, I guess you could call it. I was standing in a dark room, a spectator rather than a participant, watching. There was a woman – Alison. She was tied up to the ceiling by her arms, her wrists. She was in mismatched underwear – a black bra and blue underpants – and was very obviously pregnant. She was begging the man to either kill her or let her go." Melinda paused for breath as Emily wrote everything she was saying down, as well as it being on tape and camera. "He hit her on the thighs with something, it burned her. Then he came into view. He was tall, about six foot, quite wide. He spoke with an English accent, very well spoken, kinda Jane Austen-y. He said.." Melinda paused, making sure she got the details right. "He said he was her saviour, her saviour from sin. She begged him to let her child live, but said that he wanted to kill the child to stop another bastard coming into the world. Then he stabbed her, first above the bump and directly to it, stabbing her twice that I could see, but then it was as if I was blinded by her pain. The baby died when she did, but before you ask, the baby would have gone straight into the light. There are people who take the babies into the light, like guardian angels I guess."

Emily sat there, stunned. In two minutes she had not only gotten a description of exactly how Alison Parker was killed, but also an insight into what happens when babies die. Apparently.

"Can you describe the room?"

"Cold and damp. The ceiling was dripping. It was a basement, no decoration or anything, just a stone basement. Thick walls, stone steps. That's all I saw."

"And what happened after the vision?"

"I woke up, and Alison was standing next to my bed. She was still as she would have been when she died – in her underwear and visibly injured. When people die, as they come to terms with their death they look as they did in life. Alison is still as she died."

"Is she here now?"

"Yes, she is. She's standing behind you, reading your notes." Emily instinctively covered up her pad, as if she was back in fifth grade and Mandy was cheating from her maths test again. "Don't worry, I doodle flowers too sometimes." Emily was at once terrified and embarrassed.

"There's no way you could have seen that."

"I didn't. She did."

"Ms Gordon, Melinda, the FBI's official stance on supernatural aid in investigations is not a good one. As Hotch – Agent Hotchner told you, any evidence you give us.."

"What does it matter? Just use it to find the killer, then you'll have all the evidence you need!"

"Let's continue the interview. Where was Alison taken from?"

"The details here may be a little fuzzy here, Agent. She needs time."

"I understand, but anything you can tell m." Emily corrected herself. "She can tell me." Melinda nodded, and fell into silence.

"Uh-huh. Ok and then what?" Melinda was staring behind her, then to her left as the "spirit" presumably moved. "Ok, she says that she was in her car, driving back from a doctor's appointment." Emily wrote this down straight away, with an arrow pointing to the words "Garcia check drs". "Then she had some car trouble. So she called a tow truck. That's all she remembers, before waking up tethered and chained."

"A tow truck..I'll be back in a minute."

"Garcia, can you check Poughkeepsie car rescue services, cross check their employees for anyone who's from Britain."

"Ok, can do my darling one. How goes it with Haley Joel Osment?"

"Very interesting indeed. By the way, can you find out what doctor Alison Parker used, see if all the women went there, and check their employees for British accents too? We're looking for male, around six foot tall, British. Well spoken."

"I am on it. Limeys and gynos and ghosts, oh my!" Emily couldn't help but laugh.

"Right, better go and get my Bill Murray on." She clicked the phone off and took a deep breath. All the evidence so far, if true, would help them immensely. They had every right to be cynical, but she worried if some members didn't accept her advice, they'd have yet another dead pregnant woman on their hands.

As she entered the room, Melinda smiled. "Wonder how many more ghost movie references you can squeeze in by the time we're done, hey?" Emily at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "Hey, it's alright. Heard 'em all y'know."

"I guess there's no point asking how you heard my phone conversation in the soundproof room next door, right?"

"Nope." Her smile faded. "Look, I don't care about if you believe me, because I have no reason to hide anything. I have done nothing to feel guilty about. But this woman has come to me to help her find justice and I am damned if I'll walk away from here knowing that I could have done something. I could have helped your officers at the crime scene, but I understand why you kept me away. But you need to believe me! Do you have any other leads except me?"

"We're investigating many different lines, Ms Gordon, and you are one of those lines. But we can't just rely on your evidence, and we certainly can't rule out the fact that you could have something to do with these murders."

"I understand that. But I've been doing this a long time, since I was a little girl. I've seen a million people look at me with more hate than Agent Hotchner did. People aren't comfortable with knowing that we hang around after we die. It's always a battle, but it's one I always win. I could give you the number of anyone of the hundreds of families I've helped, and they'd vouch for me."

"Look," Emily said gently, "Off the record, I do believe you. Your background check is as clean as a whistle, we're looking into the alibis you gave the officers here, and your husband's too."

"Jim had nothing to do with this. He always gets the rough end of the stick with this whole works nights all the time, so whenever this happened he'd either be out in the ambulance with a whole lot of sick people, or at home asleep." Melinda sighed. "The first night he'd off in weeks and Alison needs us. Bad timing much?" She smiled behind her. "The ghosts don't normally come into my home though. That's how I know she's desperate. Alison's surprisingly ok though. Normally people who've died violent deaths are angry, like I was telling Agent Rossi. But she's been joking, spying on you all. She says it's because she knows her baby's safe and waiting for her, and until she remembers more details, she may as well come to terms with it. And I told her if she's got a positive outlook, the memories will come quicker, so then the light will too. She's a great lady." Melinda looked like she was going to cry. "I can't believe someone would do this to her, y'know? I guess you never know the victims. I just want justice for her. I want her to be with her child." Emily's whole demeanour softened.

"I understand. I deal with cases similar to this , and I hate to say you get desensitized to it, something that I have to admit is difficult but easy at the same time." She sighed, trying to get back to being Agent Prentiss. "Well the information you gave us is fantastic, if true." She added to cover her back. When Hotch reviewed this interview later he probably wouldn't be too thrilled at her attitude towards the other side. "Once your husband's finished talking to the local detectives and all your checks are done, you can go. If possible, we'd like you to stick around in Poughkeepsie. Would that be possible?"

"Jim's already booked us a room in a hotel nearby. I'm not going anywhere. Here's my card," she said, handing it to Emily. "Please, call if you need me." Emily rummaged in her pocket and handed her one.

"If you have any new developments, call my cell. Anytime." Melinda got up to leave. "And Ms Gordon?" She asked, once she'd made sure to turn the recorder off. "Off the record..I think you'll be a valuable asset to us." Melinda smiled gratefully.

Hotch, Rossi and Reid arrived back at the station about half an hour after Melinda left to go to her hotel. In the meeting room that had been taken over by the BAU, boards containing photographs and what few leads they had were being examined by Reid.

"If we look at all the victims, their pregnancies were all one month apart." Emily explained, although she was entirely unsure where she was going with that piece of information.

"Right, that's true. What could that mean?" Hotch asked, examining a list of the women's due dates obtained by the police before they'd arrived.

"Er..I'm not sure." Admitted Reid, "None of the women attended the same doctor. However, they did all live within a one mile radius of each other, so may have used the same dry cleaner, newsagent, coffee shop etcetera, meaning that they may not necessarily know each other, but could very possibly have met the UnSub in one of these shared locations."

"We need to look at their financials, to try and figure out where they all frequented. Finding the common link will help us narrow down any suspect pools." JJ said, adding it to her list of things to ask Garcia.

"We could possibly be looking for someone who has a strong faith. All the women being unmarried would contrast with several different religious beliefs, as well as moral ones. The hatred towards the pregnancy, and the comment that Melinda has supplied us with about ridding the woman from her sin.."

"Agent Prentiss," Hotch said stiffly, his voice formal and chastising. "I would like to remind you that what Ms Gordon has provided with is not to be considered as evidence."

"I think we should at least treat it as a possibility,_ Sir._" If he was going to patronise her, then she was damn well going to do it back. "I think she has proven herself in many ways – her record is completely clean and it's clear she has no connection with these murders. She has provided us with evidence that is consistent with the injuries found on Alison's body, and even the events leading up to Alison's abduction, which also correspond with where her car was recovered. I don't know what more evidence is required."

"Concrete evidence, Prentiss. Evidence we can legally use in order to track down this man. Unless she can provide us with something we can actually see, she may as well go back to wherever the hell she came from and keep her nose out of federal business."

"And let her be haunted by a half naked murder victim for the rest of her life?"

"Prentiss, you can't seriously believe this?!" His voice was softer now, almost begging her to see sense. "There's something wrong with her. You're being irrational, and it's unlike you."

"This is because she said Haley was with you, isn't it? You're angry." Hotch's face went completely blank. "Admit it."

"Agent Prentiss, I would care to remind you that I am your superior, and that you should treat me as such. Any speculation on my personal feelings is entirely inappropriate and unrelated to any aspect of the _formal_ investigation into this case. If you continue to talk to me in this way, and if you continue to talk to Ms Gordon and defy my warnings about evidence that is inadmissible and completely subjective, you will be suspended from this case, your badge and gun taken from you, pending formal investigation when you return to Quantico. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

"Crystal." She slammed the papers she had been holding on the desk. "I'm going to see what Garcia's got."

"No, you will stay here and go over these photos with Reid. _I _will call Garcia and find out what she's got."

"You don't even know what I asked her to find." Emily was on her feet, heading towards the door.

"Then tell me." His stance was challenging, arms rigid by his side, hands balled into fists. He was also standing directly across the door.

"Fine, I asked her to cross reference employees of tow truck companies and the doctor's offices that the women used with any British employees."

"And where did you obtain information that the UnSub might be British?" Hotch asked antagonistically. Reid and Morgan were sitting low in their chairs, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

"From Melinda Gordon, and it's the best lead we've got so if you don't let me run with this, you are making a huge mistake. And I don't care that you're about to suspend me, you are letting your personal anger with Ms Gordon interfere with genuine help that she could provide us, and you know it! Not consulting her on some key facts when she's already got so many correct and clearly has no involvement in the crime would be a huge mistake on our part, and I believe it could cost more pregnant women their lives. I am prepared to be suspended to stand up for what I think is the right choice."

Hotch stood, rooted to the spot in silence. _Oh God_, thought Emily,_ I am so fired._

"You're right. You're right. I've been letting my own unhappiness at having a personal situation manipulated by someone I believe to be false that I've been unable to even consider entertaining the idea that she's for real. You continue the line of questioning, but I am not going to consider using it until she hands us something tangible. And Prentiss, I'd like to talk to you in private. Then you will arrange for Ms Gordon to come back as soon as she can. Morgan, Reid, continue to study the histories of the women." He gestured for Prentiss to follow him into another meeting room.

"Your behavior in that room was completely unacceptable. I'm officially issuing you with a formal warning, Agent Prentiss."

"I understand."

"You need to hold your temper and remember that I am your boss." His face was emotionless, something which always scared Prentiss a little. "One more step out of line, and you will be off this case and a formal investigation made into your conduct, along with a psychological evaluation. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir." She at least had the decency to hang her head a little, before walking out of the room.

Hotch sat down heavily in a chair, holding his head in his hands. Feeling something brush his shoulder, he looked up with a start. Nothing was there.

"This woman's going to make me crazy." He groaned to nobody in particular.


	3. Chapter Three

_The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?_ – Edgar Allan Poe

* * *

_9PM, Poughkeepise_

"That was a long day." Jim groaned as they drove to the nearest hotel to the police station he could find. "How you holding up?"

"I'm ok. Got a pretty bad headache, but I expected as much. Police always have ghosts, but man, these FBI people are carrying around some dead-people baggage. I'm surprised they can't feel it. The four I saw all had at least one person attached to them. The amount of energy in that place was exhausting. But hey, at least we didn't get arrested for murder." She gave a small smile.

"You shouldn't joke about that. That "interview" I had was a downright Spanish Inquisition. Is Alison still here?" Jim asked, keeping his eyes carefully on the road.

"No, she said she's gonna try and get to her mom. She'll come back when she's ready. She knows where I'll be."

"Ghosts can really choose where to go?" Even after five years of marriage, the whole ghost thing still held surprises for him.

"When they're determined enough. I hope she finds her mom, though I can't imagine what she's going through. Losing a daughter and a grandchild, all at once. Breaks my heart." Jim reached over from the driving seat to rub her leg.

"I know, baby. We'll get back to the hotel and you can have a nice long shower and something to eat and try to relax. They give you a hard time?"

"Just a bit. You try convincing hardened FBI agents who see dead bodies every day of their lives that the ghosts of the victims hang around. One guy got really, really mad at me. The ghost of his ex-wife was with him. She never stopped loving him, and I'm pretty sure it was the same on his part. So sad, she was killed before he could get to her. They have a young son, she hangs around to keep an eye on them both. He wouldn't listen to me. I struck a nerve. Now I don't know what I'm gonna do to convince them to use my evidence. They might not even follow up on it."

"I'm sure they will, surely they have to at least look into it?"

Melinda sighed. "Yeah, I guess. And the woman I spoke to, Agent Prentiss, actually listened but she still said they couldn't use it. And now there's another girl killed. I mean, I told them what I knew, but they didn't have me ask Alison anymore questions." Rubbing her forehead, she fell into silence. After a while, she spoke again. "What if I'm wasting my time here? I can't lose Alison, I have to help her, any way I can."

"Well, we need to stay out of this as much as possible, Mel. It's an FBI investigation, I don't wanna end up in a prison trying not to drop the soap. Wait for them to call. They will."

"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so." Melinda said, still rubbing her forehead, eyes closed. "Are we almost there?"

"Just pulling in now. I checked us in when they let me go a few hours ago, so let's head up. What first – shower or food?" He navigated into a spot and the car ground to a halt. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, walking round to her side. Melinda smiled at him as he opened her door; glad she'd picked such a good apple to be her husband.

"Sleep. Lots and lots of sleep would be great. I'm drained. The amount of ghosts around down there was overwhelming. Luckily some of them didn't realise I could see them, or I'd have been swamped." She leant up to kiss him. "You are too good to me."

"Not at all. You're just too harsh on yourself. C'mon, let's get inside." Taking her hand, he pulled her out of the car. "Hopefully they can wait till morning before they realise they can't manage without you." He watched as she broke into a frown as her phone began to jingle, which soon morphed into a smile as her she reached into her purse and flipped it open. "Oh, spoke too soon." She shrugged apologetically at him as she spoke into the phone.

"Melinda Gordon." She paused to listen to the other line. "Right away? Do I have time to- oh, ok. Well, I'll be there in about ten minutes. Thanks, Agent Prentiss." Jim was already sitting in the drivers eat.

"Let's get you back to the station, Ms Holmes."

"Shut up and drive, Watson." She said, a relieved smile plastered on her face.

* * *

"She's coming back?" Rossi asked, disbelief all over his face. "Hotch seriously approved this?"

"Yeah, his idea. I think we need to give her a chance, put our personal beliefs aside and follow her leads."

"And what if this is all a trap? Sure, we haven't found anything on her, but that doesn't mean she's not in cahoots with the sick bastard who's doing this."

"Oh come on, I think Garcia would have found a trace of that. Hell, Garcia could probably find out what time she went to the bathroom yesterday. You're all being ridiculous. Reid and I will take the interview, he hasn't had a chance to do his genius thing on her yet so that'll get to the bottom of whether she's a fake or not."

"And what does Reid think of this whole thing?" Rossi asked, scratching his chin.

"He hasn't said what he thinks of the ghosts, but he seemed up for conducting the interview. I'm sure he's got some good questions for her that should make you and Hotch happy. You'll be watching?"

"Think I'd miss this? I'll bring popcorn." Prentiss grinned reluctantly, and he walked away chuckling.

* * *

Melinda got out of the car, and was relieved to see Alison waiting with Agent Prentiss outside. In a flash, Alison was by her side. "Jim, she's back. Can you hang back with me so it doesn't look like I'm talking to myself?"

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that woman's gonna come over here in a second."

"That's all I need. Alison," she said, turning to her. "You're back. Did you get to your mom?"

"Yeah, I did. It was awful. Really, really awful." Melinda nodded in sympathy. "I don't know what I expected. I came back after about five minutes but you weren't here and I was too scared to try and go anywhere else so I figured I'd wait."

"Well you did the right thing, I was dreading coming back without you. You think you can answer some questions?"

"Yeah, I can try. Melinda?" She asked hesitantly.

"Mmm?"

"Can..can other ghosts see me?" She clearly wasn't thrilled with the idea of the..interesting ghosts in the police station seeing her in the state she was in. "I hid in the lobby, it was empty there."

"Yeah, they can. They probably won't be too concerned with you though, the ones that are here are all pretty self-absorbed. Stick with me, ok? Try and remember anything you can. We're going to do this, Alison."

"Ok. I trust you."

"Ms Gordon?" Agent Prentiss had finally gotten bored of waiting and walked over to the car. She'd heard enough of the conversation to know what was going on. "Is Alison with you?"

"Yeah, she is. She's ready for some questions." They walked into the station together in silence. Alison had already vanished, presumably back in Interview Room 3 waiting for them.

"So..I'm just wondering. Off the record. Are there ghosts – here?"

"Oh, yeah. Tons of them. Not the nicest ones, as you can imagine." Melinda's eyes were focused on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with any of the spirits.

"Seriously?" Prentiss asked in disbelief. "Right now?"

Lifting her head up, Melinda scanned the room. "You see that cop with the beard over there? He's got a tattooed skinhead standing over him yelling that he didn't do anything wrong and that a woman is his property and he can do what he wants. Real nice guy."

"Sounds it. I still..I'm sorry, I'm just having trouble with this. We come here to solve a murder case and all of a sudden I find out there's life after death. Kind of a lot to take in in under 24 hours." They entered the interview room and sat down. "We're going to be joined by my fellow agent Dr Reid who'll be asking you some questions. We'll try and focus on the case but there might be some questions about how you know these things. You understand that as this is not an accepted science, we must be as thorough as possible."

"I understand. D'you know how long this will take? I haven't eaten in about 12 hours and I'm kind of flagging."

"Sure, well I can get something for you to eat, hopefully we'll get done with this as quickly as we can." She called to a cop to run out and get Melinda a sandwich, and he nodded. "Shouldn't take too long."

Melinda smiled. "No worries, I can hang on." She drummed her hands on her knees, looking around the room awkwardly.

"How d'you stay so positive? You can see dead people all the time. I'd go crazy." Emily said quietly, realising that she was basically losing any impartiality she may have had.

"I feel the same about your job. I'd be crying like a baby. I see bad things, people dying too soon or in horrible ways and what happens to their families, but that feeling when you see a person vanish into the light, and their family achieve peace and acceptance – well, there's nothing quite like it. I'm sure you feel it when you close a case. We aren't too different, really. We help people get closure."

"I guess not."

Reid entered the room, clutching a plethora of files close to his chest. He stuck his hand out awkwardly, and Melinda took it. She was looking at him intently and he panicked.

"Is there something behind me?" He felt like a child who'd been told there was a spider on his head. Prentiss rolled her eyes; he was supposed to be the logical one in all this.

"No! No, Dr Reid, I was just thinking that you look pretty young to be a Doctor. That was all, I swear." _Better not let him know about the girl standing behind him,_ Melinda thought,_ he'll never sleep again._ The girl was talking to her, asking her if she could see her, but she tried her hardest to ignore her.

"Don't worry," Alison told the girl, "She'll get to you after me. There's a line, girlfriend." The ghost attached to Dr Reid blushed, and with a last look at him, vanished.

"Oh. I get that a lot." was all he said as he sat down and opened some files. "These are some photos. I'm not going to show them to you, but as a test of your abilities we would like you to describe the photo to us. These are relating to the case, and we hope by showing them to you, or whoever you claim told you the original details of the murder of Alison Parker, we can get some further information. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Yet more testing, she thought. At least, maybe, they were taking her seriously. Finally.

"Just procedure." Emily added gently. It wasn't, not really. There wasn't any standard procedure for dealing with paranormal activity in the FBI, but Hotch insisted she be tested as much as possible during the investigation.

"Well. Ok. Alison," Melinda spoke out loud. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." Alison spoke, standing behind Reid.

"She's ready." Reid pulled the first photo away from his chest. Melinda could see Alison peering over it. Her face twisted. "Well, she doesn't like that one. She says it's a picture of where her body was dumped, which was behind a movie theatre. Her body is still there. She saw the person who found her body, an employee of the theatre, call the police. She stayed with her body until it was taken away."

"Does she know how she got there?"

"She was very confused after she was killed. Nothing made sense to her; she was too angry, too new. Fresh spirits can take a while to straighten themselves up. Alison was lucky though, if you can call it that, and it didn't take her too long. She knows it was a movie theatre because she stayed with her body until it was discovered. She only saw the man who did this to her when she was alive."

"Did she see his face?" Prentiss asked. Melinda paused, listening.

"No, he always stood in the shadows. She thinks he may also have been wearing some kind of disguise on his face. He was wearing gloves. He never touched her as far as she knows, though she was unconscious when he strung her up." Melinda paused, not listening this time but trying to compose herself. "I'm sorry. This is so awful. How d'you guys do this every day?" Reid was busy taking notes and didn't answer the question. Prentiss just shrugged.

"I know," Prentiss said soothingly, "But we need you to get as many details as you can for us."

"Ok. Well I told you everything she showed me, but if you ask her questions I can answer them." Melinda offered. Reid coughed and shot a look at Emily. "Oh. I'm meant to supply the information without prompting. She needs to have questions, jog her memory. And I don't know what you need. Please, I can get you what you need but I need some assistance."

"Alright," Reid said, "But they will be unspecific questions, which we have specific answers to."

"Fine." Relieved, Melinda relaxed a little in her chair.

"What time was she taken?" Reid asked, scanning through the case summary for possible avenues to explore.

"Her appointment was at 2:30, and they were running late. So she left the doctor's office about an hour and a half later. She was around ten minutes away from the doctor's when her car broke down so it must have been about 3:40. She doesn't remember anything past the tow truck."

"Does she know what street she was on?"

"Westbury Street." Reid blinked in shock. Even they didn't know that one, but it corresponded with the roads within five miles of the doctor's office. Prentiss nudged him to remind him to hold it together, that he was meant to be the smart one here.

"How long was she held for?" He was struggling to keep his voice steady. The fact that there was a woman in front of him who could talk, and get information from, the dead was such an incredible breakthrough in human ability that he was actively trying not to jump out of his seat with excitement.

"She has no idea. She was unconscious for a while and woke up. He didn't hold her for long before he stabbed her. He dumped her body early the next morning. The parking lot was empty when he left her there, and she lay there, and stayed with her body, until about 5am when the garbage truck came. They found her, wrapped in garbage bags but her face exposed, and rang 911. Then last night, she came to me in a vision and then appeared to me in my home."

"Of all the millions of people in the USA, Ms Gordon, this ghost somehow managed to appear to you, apparently the only person who can see it?"

"See _her._ It was no accident, a force she described as a series of small lights instructed her to come to me." _That sounded ridiculous even to me_ Melinda thought. "That sounds so dumb."

"Well. We can't really comment on that one, Ms Gordon. But the information you have given us is very helpful in identifying the type of killer we are looking for, and will aid us in forming a profile."

"Well, that's all I want. Any other questions?" Her head was spinning with exhaustion.

"No, I think that's all." Prentiss clicked the recorder off. "If you want to hang around you can get that sandwich I asked for."

"No, it's ok. Why don't you guys have it? You must be pretty tired too." Prentiss smiled and nodded.

"I guess you could say that. We'll probably be working for another five or six hours, so if you get anything new, call me."

"Will do."

* * *

"Well? What did you think?" Prentiss asked Reid once Melinda had exited the interview room.

"I-I kind of believe her. While I'm usually sceptical about people who claim to have supernatural powers, the information she's given us seems legit. Approximately 50,000 people claiming to have psychic or clairvoyant abilities contact the FBI annually, and the ones who are interviewed often fail to pass basic testing. She not only passed the tests we gave her but also gave us leads that match up with questions we've been asking. But – but Emily, my mind's telling me this can't possibly be true. What can I do when I'm presented with evidence that is pretty much concrete?" He sighed. "What's Hotch going to say when I tell him I believe in ghosts? He sent me in here to try and genius the truth out of her. But I can't."

"Let me deal with Hotch." Emily said, packing up her notes. "He just needs to put his personal feelings behind him and focus on the case."

* * *

**A/N: Ok, so this kind of exists in my perfect universe for both shows. Mel and Jim don't have a baby, and Jim's still Jim (don't want to ruin it if you haven't seen GW), and it's kind of post Zugzwang (as you could probably guess) but Prentiss is still with the BAU. Sigh..that would be brilliant. Hope you enjoyed it. I've got a lot of school work so it might be a while before the next update. Please drop me a review if you enjoyed reading!**


	4. Chapter Four

_Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions._ - _Edgar Cayce_

"Aaron.."

"Haley? What are you doing here?" Aaron scratched his head, sitting up in bed. Haley was perched on the edge, smiling serenely. Her hair was still brown and she was wearing the clothes she'd been in when she'd been killed, but there was no blood staining them.

"I've come to see you.."

"But you're dead." He said, dumbly. Of course _she _knew that. She smiled, trying not to laugh.

"I know I am, sweetie. I wanted to tell you to listen to her."

"Who?" Hotch asked, trying to move to get closer to her but he found himself glued to the spot.

"Melinda. She's real, Aaron. Just trust her a little, okay?"

"Haley, I can't.. She's crazy. You can't be with me. I'm crazy, this must be a dream.."

"Maybe it is.." She was standing now. "Even if it is, I want to tell you something." Haley's hand was outstretched, but she didn't move any closer.

"What?" Hotch was reaching out for her now, desperate to feel her hand in his, just once. Three years had passed since her death, and he still missed her. He'd moved on and tried to heal the best he could. His relationship with Beth may not have lasted too long, but it was proof that he could still feel. Haley's presence was comforting to him, and he longed to hold her.

"It's ok Aaron. It's ok how you feel. It's ok..I'll find you again, find a way to show you that I'm here. You're not alone." She began to fade into nothing, and Aaron scrambled out of bed, no longer paralysed by fear, and lunged to where she had sat, falling through nothing.

_Aaron..Aaron..Hotch.._

Aaron woke suddenly, sitting up with a start. His head collided with something hard in front of him and he moaned in pain.

"Mother fucker.." a male voice groaned. Choosing to ignore the coarse language, Hotch groped for the lamp next to him, finding the switch and flicking it on. Morgan was hunched over on the floor, rubbing his temple. "Note to self, never try to help a guy out with a nightmare again."

"Derek, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Dreams about Haley, good and bad, happened all too often, but this one seemed real. _Too _real.

"No worries, man. Sounded like a nasty one." They all had nightmares; it was to be expected given what they saw every day. "Haley again, huh?" Hotch had shared rooms with Morgan multiple times, and had nightmares about Haley more times than he cared to count, but he'd never been woken up before. He had no idea Morgan even knew about them.

"Yeah." He was reluctant to disclose details of a dream, believing it not only to be too personal but also thoroughly boring to anyone who had to listen. He sighed. "She was telling me to listen to that woman." Morgan raised an eyebrow. "I should ignore it, right?" Morgan was surprised to see Hotch looking so.. _vulnerable,_ he guessed was the word that best described his superior right now.

"Hotch, it was just a dream. C'mon, we've gotta be up in four hours. Lights out." He crawled back to bed, still rubbing his forehead.

"What do we have on the fathers of the babies so far?" Prentiss asked, clutching a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Nothing," JJ admitted. "The women hadn't told any immediate family or medical professionals the identity of the fathers." Prentiss nodded, and jotted something down in her notebook.

"So no record of boyfriends or any casual relationships? The family might not have approved, so the women pretend they weren't the fathers?" Hotch asked.

"We checked," JJ replied. "Generally it seems like the women had several casual relationships that they told friends or family about, but didn't say names. When questioned by family or friends, they refused to say who the father was. At least one of the women was suspected of prostitution by their families, but they could never prove anything and their criminal records all come up clean. Garcia can't find anything on relationships, either. We've hit a wall on that one."

"And no obvious links between the mothers?"

"Other than they lived within a one mile radius of each other, none. They even attended different doctor's offices. There's no indication these women had ever even passed each other in the street." The team fell silence; hitting brick walls like these were always frustrating.

"Well the UnSub's increased his time between kills. Two in less than a week? Something's triggered him. And the dump sites are so exposed, he's never been careful in that aspect. We need to catch this bastard before he gets another woman." Morgan's voice was laced with real anger.

"We have no leads," Rossi said regretfully. "What are we meant to do? Prints – nothing. Cameras – nothing. Witnesses – none. Some lead about a tow truck that lead to nothing." Prentiss looked down guiltily at this point. "We need this guy to slip up."

Reluctant to speak, Reid decided to bite the bullet. "Have we followed all the leads Melinda Gordon gave us?" Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I think we should treat her like we would any other witness."

Reluctantly, and still recalling his dream, Hotch nodded. "Go ahead. Reid and Morgan you analyse the interviews we've already conducted and follow up anything you think is relevant. Prentiss, I'm going to call her back and we are going to interview her together."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Any problem?"

"No sir." She reached for her phone, and rummaged for Melinda's card in her pocket. She dialled and left the room to speak to her.

Rossi raised an eyebrow at Hotch. "What happened to never wanting to talk to 'that woman' again, huh?"

"Sometimes you have to put aside personal opinions and feelings and just get on with things." His voice was flat, annoyed at Rossi's interference. "If I had my way we'd all ignore her." He glared pointedly at Reid, who shrunk in his seat. Hotch stood up. "Keep me informed of any developments." Prentiss stood outside, phone in hand.

"No answer, sir." She went to dial again, but Hotch held his hand up, stopping her.

"You go set the interview room up, I'll try. Hand me your phone." With an odd look, she did what she was told. He pressed the button to dial the number on the screen. After a few rings, Gordon answered. She sounded as if she'd just woken up.

At least someone had had a good night sleep.

Dawn light flooded through the flimsy hotel curtains, and Melinda shifted in bed. She hadn't slept all night. No ghosts haunted her now, but memories of what she had seen in Interview Room 3 and in her vision swam round her mind. She had seen ghosts all her life, but the horrible way these victims had been murdered disturbed her more than anything she had ever seen.

Jim shifted in bed, his eyes flicking open slowly.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" He mumbled, wrapping his arms around her torso. "It's almost morning."

"Can't. Go back to sleep, honey. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. You're worrying."

"Wouldn't you be, though? All those women and babies, gone. I need to help them."

"You are.."

"There must be something else I can do." Jim yawned, nodding his head at the same time. She couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. "Okay, let's both try and get some sleep." She closed her eyes, fighting to ignore the images that flashed before her. Focusing on happier times, she felt herself finally fall into a deep, dreamless, rejuvenating sleep.

Until the phone rang.

"H-Hello?" Melinda prised her eyes open. The room was brighter now, and she guessed it must have been mid-morning by now. Turning over, she noticed the space next to her was empty.

"Ms Gordon?" A male voice spoke to her. She was too tired to try and place it.

"This is she."

"This is SSA Aaron Hotchner. We'd like you to come back to the station." His voice was still completely flat, and she was frankly surprised to hear from him and not Agent Prentiss.

"Oh, sure. When?" Sitting up in bed, she stretched slightly to try and feel more awake. It didn't work.

"As soon as possible."

"Okay, well my husband's gone out somewhere and I need to wait for him to get back. Is an hour ok?"

"Fine." The phone clicked off, and she stared at the blank screen.

"Well, _bye then!"_

Clicking on to her speed dial, she selected Jim's number.

"Baby, where are you? I need to go back to the station."

Melinda arrived around forty five minutes later. Jim had been out at a store, getting food for breakfast. He'd arrived back to find Melinda showered and dressed, ready and raring to go. He'd forced her to eat a bagel and drink something before she left. Leaving him at the hotel and taking the car meant that she had more freedom to stay as long as she was needed, without worrying about Jim.

She pulled into the station, and wasn't surprised to see Alison standing outside the station. Jumping out of the car and locking it over her shoulder, she almost ran over to the ghost.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself," Alison smiled. "I heard them talking about you so I decided to stick around."

"You were here all night?"

"I tried to leave, but I couldn't. Getting used to this whole ghost teleport thing, I guess." Alison tried to smile, but she couldn't. "But Melinda, I think there's another girl here. She was with the feds, and not one of the ones that are always with them. She was in her underwear too." Melinda tried not to look happy, but she couldn't help it. "Jeez, don't look too sad! You think she can help with this?"

"Maybe, if she's who you think she is. I just need a name, and we'll be in business."

"You'll have to ask her," Alison responded, her arms folded. "Stuck up bitch wouldn't talk to me."

Melinda shook her head, and walked in to the police station. SSAs Hotchner and Prentiss were waiting by the front desk for her.

"Shall we, Ms Gordon?" Hotch asked, his voice devoid of any emotion. Melinda nodded distractedly, her eyes scanning her environment for a sighting of the new ghost. The two agents lead her through the main hub, towards the doors at the back of the room.

Interview Room 3 was becoming all too familiar.

"Could you confirm your name for the tape?" Hotch asked.

"Melinda Gordon."

"Interviewing are SSA Aaron Hotchner," Hotch spoke clearly, motioning to Prentiss to do the same.

"And SSA Emily Prentiss."

"Ms Gordon, as previous testimonies show, you believe you can communicate with the spirits of dead people, correct?"

"Yes, I do." Melinda replied, trying to ignore the sting that the word "believe" had caused.

"And you believe that the spirit of Alison Parker has come to you and shown you evidence pertaining to her murder, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you're confident this evidence hasn't come from other sources that you may not be telling us about? At this point, I would like to remind you that the spoliation of evidence is a criminal offence."

"Yes, I'm sure that I'm not concealing anything." Her voice was shaking a little – she felt as if she was under attack. Reminding herself that she had to put her personal feelings aside in order to help the spirits of these poor women, she sat a little straighter in her chair, trying to project an air of confidence.

"We'd like to do a cognitive interview with Alison." Hotch stated calmly. Prentiss turned to look at him, trying to conceal the fact he'd caught her completely off guard. They hadn't discussed this at all, and the fact that all of a sudden he was willing to buy into the whole ghost thing seemed very unlike Hotch. He didn't do u-turns.

"A – a what?" Melinda asked, unsure what such an interview would entail.

"We'd like her to recall where she was. She can hear us, correct?"

"Er, yeah, she can. But what happened to non-evidence?"

"Yeah, what happened?" Emily mumbled under her breath. Hotch shot her a look that told her she'd heard him. She'd get in trouble for that later.

"Think of it as another test of your abilities. Now, is Alison here?"

"Yes, she is, and she'll try as hard as she can to help you."

"Great. Ok, Alison," Prentiss began, deciding to take the lead on this one. "I want you to remember the weather on that day. Can you do that?"

"She says it was warm, with a light breeze."

"And what was she wearing on that day?"

"Maternity jeans, a purple stretchy camisole, and a large cardigan. If you don't mind, there'll be a small pause between my answers – I've gotta listen carefully." The agents nodded.

"What time did she leave the house?" Hotch asked.

"Around one thirty pm – she had to drop a stereo off to be repaired before her doctor's appointment."

"Where did she drop it off?" Another pause while Melinda listened.

"LP Electrics. She'd never been there before, but someone recommended it to her."

"When did she arrive at the doctor's?"

"She arrived at 2:20. Her bladder was full for the scan, but they were running real late. She was very uncomfortable. They saw her at around 3pm, and she had a normal check up and a scan. The baby was strong, but her blood pressure was a little high. They told her to stay off her feet."

"And after she left?"

"She got in the car, and after about ten minutes, there was trouble. It was an old car, and it was always breaking down. So she called a tow truck." She paused. "This is where it goes blank. What should I do?"

"We'll continue asking questions in the hope it will jog her memory." Hotch replied. _So, this is the end of my career_, he thought, _a one way ticket to the nut house._

"She's trying, she really is. She called the tow truck, and they arrived a little while after. They.." Melinda nodded. "It's ok, Alison, take your time. They fixed whatever was wrong with the engine, told her to get to a mechanic as soon as she could. She drove away."

"We know she didn't make it home. Can she remember what happened after?"

"She was driving, and she saw..she saw a body on the side of the road."

"A _body?"_ Prentiss asked in disbelief. "There were no other reported bodies found around the time of her murder."

"She got out of the car, ran – waddled – over to the body. She leant down to check if they were breathing – and he sat up and hit her round the head. Oh god, she remembers now. That's how she got taken."

"We still haven't found her car. Were there any other cars at the scene?" Hotch asked, furrowing his brow.

"She says no, the road was empty. She thought he'd been hit."

"The UnSub must have transported her in her own car, he must still have it!" Prentiss told Hotch, who narrowed his eyes, reminding her silently that Melinda Gordon was not to be told information like that.

"I'll go tell the others." Prentiss said excitedly. She left the room hurriedly. Hotch knew at least one member of the team would be watching, so she was probably just behind the mirror.

"Does Alison remember anything else?" Hotch asked, wanting the interview to be over with as quickly as possible. Melinda nodded.

"She remembers his face, Agent Hotchner. He had a large wound on his cheek, which looked to her quite recent. It was scabbing over, but not healed."

"Thank you, we'll look into that. I'll also look into getting a sketch artist down here. Is there anything else?"

"No. Alison's very drained and upset; I think it would be best if we stopped." Melinda paused, and looked around her. "She's gone; I'll call you to let you know when she's back."

"Very well." He spoke the time of termination into the recorder. "Thanks." He got up to leave.

"Agent Hotchner?" Melinda stopped him. He reluctantly turned around.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for taking a chance on me."

"You've got Prentiss to thank for that, not me." He nodded, and turned to head out the door. Suddenly, Melinda lurched forwards, clutching her head.

"Agent Hotchner?" Her voice was weak, like a sick child. .

"Yes?"

"There's another girl here. She looks just like Alison."

"Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"I hadn't seen her, Alison couldn't get her name. I thought it might be something else. But she's just appeared."

"I'll get Reid and Prentiss in here to conduct another cognitive interview."

"I don't think that'll work quite yet. She's very angry. She's yelling at me, and moving around the room very violently. I can't.." The energy was making her head spin, and her stomach didn't feel too good either. "Oh god, could you pass me that garbage can?" Hotch passed her it as quickly as he could, but winced as he heard vomit land on his expensive Italian leather shoes.

He really didn't like Melinda Gordon.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review!**


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